


Beginnings

by knightinmourning



Series: All for One [1]
Category: Star Trek
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, Blindfolds, Gen, Masturbation, Orgasm Delay/Denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2020-01-31 12:12:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18591037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knightinmourning/pseuds/knightinmourning
Summary: Chris Pike isn't the only sub in Starfleet, but he is the only captain who's a sub and he intends to keep it that way. It just means pretending he's a dom.





	Beginnings

Starfleet, as an organization, has always been forward-thinking.

The founding charter included language with protections for most groups, anti-discrimination language, and clauses to allow for the expansion of those rights and the related responsibilities of the organization. They started with humans of all types and then built on that to include various other species as they entered the Federation. For a military organization, it had been thought of as absolutely groundbreaking when it laid out these rules.

But even Starfleet was not a complete utopia of diversity, and some very powerful people still had prejudices.

The fact is, Christopher Pike is the captain of the federation’s prized ship. He’s worked hard for this position, and he’s not going to jeopardize it now by telling people the truth: he’s a sub.

It was the one last thing Starfleet needed to figure out, Chris believed. That centuries’ old beliefs about how subs could, or should, only hold certain jobs, how they needed a minder to keep them happy and safe, or how they wouldn’t be able to make difficult decisions in the heat of the moment, were just that: old. And completely inaccurate.

Chris was doing just fine as captain of the Enterprise, thank you very much.

He wasn’t the only sub on the ship; they weren’t permitted in command roles, so most of them were yeomen or nurses, a few lower level engineers and scientists who were fantastic at their jobs but had very limited options for promotion. Switches had more freedom, occupying a number of supervisor positions, but if you wanted to make it to the top, you had to be a dom.

Which was a problem, because it wasn’t like you chose what you were. For most humans, their roles became apparent to them in puberty, between the ages of 12 or 14. By high school, everything was divided by whether you were a dom or a sub - you took different classes depending on your role because that would determine what careers you’d be eligible for. These guidelines had loosened in the past couple decades, Chris knew, but he also knew that it would take a while for those changes to dribble down through the rest of society.

He wasn’t going to see Starfleet allow submissive captains during his lifetime, he was sure of that.

So instead, Chris did his best to live his life. He avoided close personal relationships with much of his crew, though he had several friends among his senior staff. Chris prided himself in his compassionate and friendly approach to command, while still maintaining a professional distance. That didn’t mean that everything was perfect, though. Sometimes, after a difficult discussion with his Number One or an argument with Admiral Cornwell, he’d have to lock himself in his quarters for a while, let himself come down from the intense need he felt to just drop to his knees and do whatever they asked.

Especially Una, who took great pride in making even other doms squirm. He couldn’t imagine what she would do to him.

Or, well, he could imagine it, but he wasn’t going to, because he had a reputation to maintain and that meant not thinking about how his first officer would probably love the opportunity to tie him up and have her way with him.

Sometimes Chris wondered what his life might be like with the stability of a relationship. Not like he saw some subs, where once they were collared, they would spend the rest of their days naked and stuck in the home, available to serve their doms at any time and in any way. No, he just wanted someone to take him down once in a while, clear his head and make him feel safe and loved.

In the absence of that impossible dream, Chris made do with what he had. On nights like tonight, when he needed something, he would strip and slip on a blindfold, imagine a dom ordering him to do this or that. Jack himself with a loose hand until he was desperate to cum, and then stop touching himself entirely, letting himself ride the high of the denial, if only for a few minutes. It was lonely and it always left him feeling empty inside, but he reasoned that being captain and a little lonely was better than not being captain at all.

On a ship like the Enterprise, where he was surrounded by powerful, confident doms and switches day in and day out, Chris had his pick of fodder for his fantasies. But every time, afraid that giving in even once would make him less effective at standing his ground against them later on, Chris intentionally avoided imagining anyone during these moments. The dom in his thoughts was nothing more than a dark shadow, the whisper of a voice that he couldn’t identify no matter how much he wanted to. It was safer this way.

Chris reached again for his cock, hard and leaking against his stomach, and finally, finally, allowed himself to imagine the dom in his thoughts giving him permission to cum. Rubbing his thumb in circles around the head and then giving himself another couple long strokes, he was gasping and climaxing, letting his thoughts go silent for just a second before he couldn’t anymore. Not for the first time, he wished desperately that he had a dom here with him, rubbing his arms and telling him he was good.

But all he had was himself, and after he gave himself some time to recover, he was slipping the blindfold off his face and running a damp towel over his stomach. Taking a shower and letting the hot water run down his back while he shivered and tried to pretend there weren’t tears in his eyes.

Slipping on a pair of sweats and curling up in bed under a too-big blanket.

Trying not to imagine how much better all of this would feel, how much easier it would be, if he just had someone to take the pressure off once in a while.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> This is intended to be the first of a longer series. I've written a few parts already and have others planned, but we'll see where it goes. It took long enough of me waffling on posting this before I finally got around to it, but I figure now that I've pulled the band-aid off, I'll be more likely to post the other ones.


End file.
